Total Knockout
by GlassSerendipity
Summary: Jules (fem!Prussia) is an MMA fighter with an undefeated starting season. Despite her manager's warning, she enters a fight cocky and gets knocked out quickly. On the ambulance ride over to the hospital, she meets a certain Dr. Williams and falls in love instantly. PruCan with fem!Prussia.
1. Chapter 1

The zone. Be the zone. Become the zone, and the zone will be you.

The zone was loud and all encompassing. Crashing metal and shredding guitar strings screamed in my ears. Get mad. Get angry.

My heels padded softly on the ground as they raced to keep up with the beat. I had to keep my calves warm. It was almost time.

I was ready. My feet were bare, and most of my skin was left exposed. Old bruises were spotted randomly against the white surface. The parts that were covered were bound and skin tight. I took deep breaths despite the resistance of my chest protector and gym bra. My long white hair was pulled back tight into a single ponytail.

A muffled sound almost broke my concentration. Focus.

"Jules!"

"Ow!" My headphones were yanked out of my ears. "Hey!" I protested.

"You weren't listening to me, were you." My manager scowled. His personality was just about as stiff as his gelled back hair. "If you don't pay attention, you're going to get killed out there."

"Yeah, yeah." I turned my iJunk off and stole my earbud back.

"Seriously Jules, you've got to be careful. You're not invincible, you know," he continued to berate me.

"Gotta admit, I've got a pretty good streak going." I threw him a cocky smile.

Of course, it did nothing but make things worse. "See! I knew it! I knew you were letting it get to your head."

"Oh relax, Westley. You make it seem like being undefeated is a bad thing." I held out my hand for him to wrap.

"It is for you." He wrapped the bandage firmly around my knuckles. "If you don't get your head out of your ass quick, you're going to get the beat down of your life. Remember, she has quite a bit of weight on you..."

"I know! We've been over this. I've been training like crazy! You've been training me like crazy! I'm more than ready. Maybe you should have a bit more confidence in yourself." I was starting to get a little irritated. It was almost like he was expecting me to lose after both of our hard work.

"Look, Jules, I just don't want to see you get seriously hurt out there."

His concern really was sweet, but totally unnecessary. I was usually at the bottom of my weight class. I knew how to fight girls heavier that me. Hell, I knew how to fight _boys_ heavier than me. "I'll be careful, I swear. Just tell me one thing... Who's awesome?"

Westley gave up and sighed. "You're awesome."

"Damn right." Westley helped me slip on my gloves.

I got up from the chair and made a few practice punches. I was pumped. I felt like nothing in the world could stop me. I kissed my fist and pointed it at my manager. "This one's for you, baby bro."

The doors opened leading out tothe ring. The screams from the crowd and the fog just kept rolling in.

"Kick some ass, Jules!" I heard my brother call out to me.

The crowd was intoxicating. I lifted my arms, and they yelled louder. This was going to be a cinch.

The ref widened the gap between the ropes for me to slip into the ring. My opponent was already there.

Damn, she was huge. Like me, Anya was undefeated this year. I was lightly jumping with anticipation. I'd just have to be quick. All that weight would mean she was slow, right?

Once the ref was safely out of the ring, the bell to start the match dinged.

I immediately sprang into action. I started throwing punches left and right. I landed a right hook straight to her cheek before she could put up her gaurd.

Her head snapped back quickly. I got this feeling of dread. Even with her mouth gaurd, it seemed like she was smiling at me.

I avoided the straight punch she aimed at my nose. Her fist slammed against my ear. In the midst of the ringing in my head, her knee popped up and rammed into my ribs. Shit. Shit. I didn't have time to think about the pain. Was the crunch of my ribs breaking as audible as I thought it was?

She was able to kick me multiple times before I twisted out of the way. I had to keep her from going after the same spot again.

I fought my way closer. I sandwiched her head between my fists and jumped onto her. I twisted my legs around her torso and minimized the distance between us. I pounded on her head while simultaneously trying to use my legs to force her onto the mat. She didn't budge an inch. This was bad. This was very bad.

Her arm whipped out and punched the side of my head. The impact drew me back an inch. She used the opportunity to punch my ribs again. I could feel the grip in my legs slipping. Her next punch landed right on my cheekbone sending a searing pain throughout my head.

And I was flying. Or I was falling. Straight down and back. I tried to think to move my arms, but I just wasn't responding. Everything seemed to slow down. I saw the bright, white lights overhead followed by complete and sudden darkness.

* * *

><p>I opened my eyes quickly. What was I thinking keeping them closed? I had to get up and start fighting before...<p>

These weren't the bright lights I remembered. The cheering fans and the ring were gone. Instead, the noise seemed to be coming from some very annoying, beeping machinery. Somewhere extremely close by, there was a siren.

The ground undulated roughly, and I immediately knew where I was.

"Aw shit!" I cussed loudly.

"Hey, hey, I've got you," a gentle voice said.

I hissed as a hand lifted my head and placed another pillow beneath it. The back of my head was extremely sore. It felt like a concussion. "Ow fuck!"

"It'll be okay. I'm here to take care of you, Jules. Do you remember what happened?" The hand and its source had a pen light and shined it directly into my eyes.

"Yeah, I lost," I said bitterly. "I got KO'd. Knocked the fuck out."

"Just relax it'll all be okay," the gentle voice said again.

"Easy for you to say. To you, it'd be like..." I started as my eyes adjusted.

Crouching beside me was the single most beautiful creature I had ever seen. His hair was the color of honey and sunshine. Behind his glasses were a pair of forget-me-not violet eyes. I blinked my eyes to make sure I hadn't died and gone to a heaven that happened to exactly look like the inside of an ambulance. I could have sworn his name tag read Dr. Sexy instead of Dr. Williams.

"Your manager was worried when you didn't respond after a few minutes and thought it'd be best for you to be taken to a hospital," Dr. McGorgeous informed me.

"A-are all the paramedics this hot or am I just lucky?" I blurted out.

He gave me a small smile. I felt like I could faint again. "I think you're still a little loopy, Miss Bielschmidt."

He wrote something on a clipboard. "You most likely have a concussion, so I'd recommend you take it easy a couple of days. We're almost at the hospital. Your doctor there will have more information for you." He held a cold pack up against my cheekbone.

"When can I see you again," I asked desperately. I might not have a lot of time left.

"Hopefully, you won't have to see me for a long time," he answered with a laugh.

The ambulance stopped. I looked up to see the doors open to take my gurney away from him. Somebody else took over pressing the cold pack against my face.

"But what if I want to!" I called out to him.

He just laughed some more. "I hope you have a speedy recovery, Jules."

No! It was too late! I was rolled out of the ambulance, and the mysterious Dr. Williams closed the doors behind him. That was just my luck. First, I lost out on all the match prize money, and now, the most perfect man just slipped through fingers.

I clenched my fists. They hadn't bothered to remove my gloves just yet. I swore to myself I wouldn't let either of them get away. Not that Anya bitch or the sexy paramedic doctor.


	2. Chapter 2

I had to admit, it was pretty hard to watch. There was always something unsettling about watching yourself get knocked out. I was watching the point when I latched onto Anya. I got in a few good hits in, but things just went downhill from there. My head snapped back. I could see myself lose my grip and fall straight back right onto my head. I winced when I heard the thud. That must have been when I passed out.

My body looked lifeless in the ring. The referee climbed into the ring and declared me knocked out. There was some obnoxious kid laughing in the background. Westley climbed in afterwords and tried to wake me up. He waved the medics over where they proceeded to move me onto a gurney. I squinted trying to see if I could figure which one was the sexy doctor.

Westley's hand reached for his laptop and pulled back the video about 30 seconds. Just enough to see myself knocked out and hear that laugh again. And again. And again.

"Enough! I get the picture," I crossed my arms and leaned further back into the hospital bed. The pillow was a bit too stiff, and the sheets were scratchy. The room had a weird old people smell.

"Oh really? 'Cause I don't think you do." Westley was in full time manager mode. "This was the exact strategy I told you NOT to use against Anya. And look what happened." He rewound the video one more time.

I rolled my eyes. "So, I had an off day..."

"You can't afford to have off days, Jules. This is what happens when you don't listen to me. Something worse could have happened out there."

I sighed. It was no use fighting with him when he was like this. Westley hobbled around my hospital room in a nervous habit of pacing.

"Don't tell me your knee's acting up again." I scowled.

"It's nothing," Westley played it off. "You stress me out too much." Our strong sense of denial must run in the family.

"Maybe we should have the doctor look at it when he comes back," I offered.

"Why bother? There's nothing more they can do," he said pessimistically.

The biggest tragedy to happen to our family was when my brother's knee got hurt. It only took one football game in high school. He got caught up in a bad skirmish, and his knee practically got shredded by the cleats. It didn't matter if it was intentional or not; the damage had been dealt. There went Westley's chance at a career participating in any sort of professional sport.

Understandably, he got depressed. When it got bad, when it looked like he wouldn't get out, I made him a promise. I reminded him of the times that we would sit in front if the tv watching any fight we could before Mom told us to do chores. Our favorites had been the MMA cage fights. We'd always try to reenact them on the couch until Dad broke us up. After every "fight," one of us would always win the championship.

"I'm going to win the MMA championship," I promised him. "But I'm not going to do it without you. This is our dream. I'm not going to let you back out of this. We're going to fight this together."

Westley was reluctant at first, but eventually gave in. It took him forever to actually step back into the gym. It was apparent he knew way more about muscle conditioning then I did anyway. It was only natural that I forced him to be my manager. After a while, I could see it making a difference. He slowly pulled himself up by studying different fighting styles to teach me, managing my diet, and building my workout regimen. And we got good. Really good.

"At least put a knee brace on." If he could micromanage me, I could do the same. On the basis that I was his big sister, he had to listen.

"I'll do it when I get home," Westley grumbled. "Just focus on getting better."

"Pffft, it's just a few bruises and scratches. I'm only here because you freaked out," I downplayed. My ribs and face were taped up. They would heal all on their own.

"Do I have to play the video again?" he threatened.

"Relax! I've got a hard head." One that would probably explode if I had to listen to that god awful laugh one more time.

There was a knock on the door, and my doctor let himself in. He was an old fuddy duddy, but I've had him before for various injuries. He usually didn't make me stay more than I had to. "Well Julia, your test results came in. Good news, no concussion and no brain damage. Just some deep bruising."

"See! I told you!" Dodged a bullet there. If I had gotten another concussion, who knew how long Westley would have kept me out of the ring. I flipped the sheets off of me. I hated being cooped up in hospitals. Deep bruising wasn't enough to keep me in this sterilized prison.

"Wait, Jules-" It was too late. I had stepped into the little bathroom to change into civilian clothes. "Dr. Fullbrook, are there any precautions that she needs to take?" Westley asked.

"Well, rest is always important. She can take painkillers for any discomfort..."

"Hey coach! Can I get back to training today?" I interupted. I peeked my head out of the bathroom, hopeful.

Westley always got a kick out of me calling him coach. He tried hard to fight off a smile. "Only low impact, got that Jules? Your ribs are still cracked, so..."

"Yes!" I grabbed the bag Westley brought for me. I zipped out of the room. "Be sure to check out for me, Westley!"

"Jules, wait up! Thank you for everything, Dr. Fullbrook."

* * *

><p>Speed.<p>

Power.

Endurance.

There was something calming about methodically punching a speed bag. It helped me focus. I picked up the pace. This wasn't going to cut it anymore. Heavy breathing made my chest ache. I fought through the pain. Any discomfort and reservations would have to wait until later.

"Jules..."

Westley had been watching me for a while. Making sure I don't hurt myself or something. I noticed he now had a black brace around his scarred knee.

"I just wanted to say... It's not the end of the world if you..."

"Honestly bro, did you really think I'd get into a slump?" I looked back at my brother and grinned. "I'm fired up."

He looked a little relieved. Not enough to let go to my head, of course.

"How soon can you get me into another fight?" I asked. I backed away from the speed bag. I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the sweat band on my wrist.

"Jules, maybe you should take it easy..."

"Nope. Not an option I'm aiming got the top. Hold the punching bag for me." I bounced on my toes in front of the hard bag. I clenched and unclenched my fists, letting my knuckles become readjusted in my gloves.

Westley sighed and got up from his folding chair. He stood behind the punching bag and held it in place.

I gave the bag a thorough pounding, putting every ounce of my strength into each punch. Westley holding gave it just the right amount of weight to push me to my limits. He was no pushover. I needed to fight against the resistance. When the punching got harder, I poured more of myself into the motions. I threw in a few kicks for good measure.

Westley huffed. "Fine." I was probably putting a bit too much pressure on his knee. Still, I think I proved my point. I was ready. "I'll put you into a fight this weekend. But only a small timer. We won't put you up in a rematch with Anya just yet."

"You're the best!" I darted and dodged the stationary punching bag. I lightly tapped Westley's arm with my fist.

I ran a lap or two around the indoor track to cool down.

"I'm not going to lose next time!" I shouted into the empty gym.

"Stretch!" my brother barked next. "And hurry up! I have to give the keys to the gym back."

After I finished running, I extended my arm across my chest. I could feel my pounding heart. There was no disguising it. I was excited. I wanted to fight. I wanted to win. I wanted to run up to the ambulances and show that doctor the face of a winner.


	3. Chapter 3

Nothing felt better than winning. The cheer of the crowd and the referee holding my fist up to the sky. I had completely dominated. The adrenaline pumped unrestrained through my veins. Both of the five minute rounds were cut too short due to my complete victory. Westley really had picked out an easy fight for me.

"You feeling good?" Even Westley was smiling as he unwrapped my hands.

"I feel awesome!" I wiped the sweat from my brow. I was hardly even sore.

"You did a good job, Jules. Keep it up like that, and you'll get back on track in no time," he said.

"Guess that means you should enter me into another fight soon." I stood up. I just couldn't sit still.

"Will do. Make sure you cool down," he reminded me.

I opened the door to exit that little room and was met by the flash of press. I tried to shield my eyes from the bright lights directed at my face.

"Hey! Put on your jacket! You're going to catch a cold dressed like that."

I blindly caught the jacket Westley threw behind me. I slipped it on and moved my ponytail so it rested on top. I smiled pretty for the cameras. I left it unzipped, so my belly was still exposed.

"Jules, Jules! How are you feeling?" the reporters asked.

"Pretty awesome right now." I had to show the public I was still in tip top shape.

"That was a pretty nasty spill in your last fight against Anya. Care to comment?"

It was hard to keep that smile. "Th-That was just a fluke. Nothing like that is ever gonna happen again, I can tell you that." It was hard to deny what happened when the events were leaked everywhere on the Internet.

"What will you do differently if you have to face her again?"

"I'll do what I always do. I'll win," I asserted. Something caught my eye in the distance. Something that was always there at a fight, but I would usually just gloss over. It made my heart feel like it was in my throat.

"But what about..."

"Sorry, but there's something that I need to check up on," I interrupted their questioning. I created an opening for myself and briskly walked towards the ambulances. The walk turned into a jog and then a run.

There were three ambulances up on that hill. There was no emergency, so the paramedics were on alert in case one of the fighters had an emergency.

"Excuse me, miss. Can I assist you?" A paramedic stopped me before I could get too close.

"Yeah, hi. Is there a Williams working here tonight?" I asked.

The paramedic frowned as he thought. "Williams...Williams... I don't think Dr. Williams was scheduled to ride along tonight."

I couldn't help but feel disappointed. I strained my neck to see if I could see him anyway.

"Let me just radio back to the hospital to see if he'll be coming up later," he said.

"Okay, thanks," I responded.

The paramedic headed back towards an ambulance. I inched closer. Most of the medical personnel seemed to be listening to the fight on a little radio.

"Hey! You're that Jules fighter chick, right?" One of them said. The whole group turned my way.

"Yeah, that's me," I said proudly.

"You won me a lot of money tonight!" he bragged. A bunch of other men groaned.

On the one hand, I was glad somebody had bet on me. On the other, I wasn't too happy that so many had voted against.

"Well, that's something in common. I won me a lot of money, too," I said.

They laughed at my little remark and went back to listening to the fight. I backed away, aiming to wander around a bit more until the original paramedic came back.

There was a muffled shout of "Clear!" It was so sudden, I whipped my head around to see where it had come from. Before I knew it, a bright red door of an ambulance popped open and flew right in my face.

The impact set me back a few steps. It wasn't as hard as some of the punches these girls pulled, but man, that metal door was cutting.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry." A man jumped out the back of the ambulance. He grabbed a first aid box and swiftly closed the door again.

He had a dark blue baseball cap on. I was about to snap at him when I noticed his familiar face. His name tag read "Jones," but his eyes read Dr. McDreamy.

Jones? Was that right? Last time I thought it was Williams...

"How's your head?" he asked, opening the box.

"Fine. Much better thanks," is what I thought I said. My tongue was tied and were lips were swelling.

"Looks like I busted your lip. I'm so sorry about that." He raised a cloth to my face and padded gently against my lips and chin. He searched my face for something, and I'm pretty confident it wasn't my blush.

"You look familiar..." he said.

I nodded. "You helped me last time when I got knocked out." Good lord, I sounded ridiculous.

"You don't have to talk." He laughed nervously. He took out some special bandages from the kit to keep my lip together without it having bleed all over the place. His thumbs grazed against my skin. "Jules, right? It's nice to see that you've recovered quickly despite the fact I just tried to reverse some of your progress."

He remembered my name! If only I could figure out what his was.

"Your name tag changed," I slurred out. Smooth.

He cleared his throat and looked over his shoulder before he spoke again. "It...um...does that sometimes, but let's keep that a secret between you and me," he said barely louder than a whisper. He threw me a subtle wink, and my heart nearly imploded.

I gulped. "Okay, but in exchange, will you...?"

"Hey, we've got an emergency!" one of the medics who was listening to the radio said. "One of the girls snapped her leg with bone protrusion!"

"I've got to go," the gorgeous man said quickly. "It was nice to see you again, but you should probably get out of the way. Things will get pretty crazy over here."

No! I wanted him to stay, but he didn't look half bad running down that hill.

"Williams has off tonight."

I turned around to see the first paramedic. He had a door open on the driver's side of the ambulance. He rushed to buckle his seat belt.

"And if you could please stand off to the side, miss..."

He was cut off by this agonizing scream. A girl was squirming against her restraints as she cried. A blanket was thrown over her lower half, but I could tell there were more angles than there should have been. My hot doctor was talking to her calmly, trying to reassure her that she would be okay. I got out of their way as they loaded her into an ambulance.

I looked back to. The entrance of the fighting rink. There was a figure standing in the doorway. I squinted my eyes to try to make out who it was.

Anya was there. She didn't even look the least bit upset about breaking some poor girl's leg. Injuries came with the job description but still...

It looked like she recognized me. She waved at me and spat her mouthguard into her hand.

I shuddered. Maybe it was a little too chilly tonight. I zipped up my jacket. Once Anya turned around to head back to the rink, I headed down the hill. Anya had cut my little rendezvous with Dr. What's-his-name too short.

Westley was waiting for me back at the building. He frowned when he saw me. "Did you get in a fight?" he scolded.

"No," I sighed.

"You can't just go off having fights, Jules. You're in worse shape than when you left. The reason I'm here is to make sure you don't push yourself and..."

"Jeez, I got in a fight against a door! I'm already patched up, see? All better."

He shook his head. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Smother me..." I muttered under my breath. I gathered up the rest of my things. "Come on, let's just go home."


	4. Chapter 4

As I stood at the entrance of the building, I just couldn't bring myself to go in. The hospital was a five story building. My determination was waning. How was I supposed to find him if I didn't even know his real name?

I went through my mental checklist once more. I knew what I was going to say, so I wouldn't freeze up like last time. I wasn't going to get whacked in any region of my head. I'd finally ask Dr. McDreamy out.

I made sure to practice extra hard yesterday. I had to push myself if I ever wanted Westley to let me have a day off. My muscles still sort of ached, but it was worth it. If I could actually pull this off, I'm pretty sure my soul would separate from my body and float up to heaven.

I stepped through the automatic sliding doors. Man, I really hoped he remembered who I was. He recognized me last time, so that was a good sign. I stepped up to the reception desk.

"Hello, how may I help you?" the secretary asked as I came up.

"Hi, I'm looking for someone," I said.

She smiled. "Alright, if you could tell me the name of the patient, I can look up the room number for you."

"He's not a patient, he's a doctor..." I blanked. What name was I supposed to use? Jones?! Williams?! "I can't remember his name. He's um...he's tall. Blond. He wears glasses. He's got beautiful blue eyes..." The last part definitely wasn't meant to come out."

The secretary got a dreamy look on her face. "You must be thinking of Dr. Jones."

That was one of his names. I'm not quite sure how I felt about this lady's reaction. I guess there was some competition to fight off.

"Can I ask why you're here to visit?" she asked next.

"I'd like to ask him some questions..." One question in particular. Would he please fall in love with me and be my boyfriend and take me on dates...

"Alright. His office is on the third floor. Take a left at the elevator, and it's five doors down on the right. I'll page him to let you know you've come to see him," the secretary said.

"Okay, thank you!"

I was nearly jittery with excitement. I'd get to see him again. The elevator didn't seem to move fast enough. When the doors opened, I booked it to the left and then to the right when I got to the fifth door.

I wiped my hands on my pants. I clenched and unclenched my fist before I knocked on the door.

"Come in," a muffled voice said from behind the door.

I twisted the door knob and was met with darkness. I squinted my eyes. The blinds on the window were drawn closed, allowing only an outline of a desk and chair to be shown in the little room. Someone might have been sitting in it. I really couldn't tell.

My hand blindly searched for a light switch and flicked it up when it found purchase.

The man in the chair hissed loudly. He had been leaning back in the chair and quickly used his arm to cover his face. "Jeez! Could you warn a guy a guy next time?"

"Sorry..." There was something about the situation that seemed really off. His mannerisms were not what I had expected. Why was he sitting in a dark room anyway? Didn't he know I was coming?

The doctor rubbed his eyes behind his glasses. "Right, you wanted to interview me or something?"

"Interview?" I repeated.

He moved his hands away from his face and looked at me. I don't know which of us were more surprised. He looked very, very similar to Dr. McDreamy, but just not so dreamy. His hair was blond but cut shorter or maybe just stylized a different way than I remembered. His eyes were most definitely blue, but more like a summer sky on a clear day rather than a field of wild flowers. It was hard to point out the differences, but he was most definitely not my sexy doctor.

"You don't look like a journalist..." he said.

Where did he get the idea that I was a journalist? I shook the ridiculous idea out of my head. "Why would I be here to interview you?"

"'Cause I'm the youngest chief resident in this hospital's history..." he boasted. "If you're not a journalist, what are you?"

I crossed my arms across my chest. He was just a little irritating. "I'm a professional MMA fighter..."

"Shit!" He exclaimed. He leaped up from his chair and held up his arms defensively. "Look just tell Yao to calm down. I'll get him his money soon. It's not like he needs to hire thugs to..."

I shook my head. "What are you talking about?" I was just going to ignore the part where he called me a thug. "Look, you're not even the guy I'm looking for..."

"Oh sweet!" The chief resident reclined back in his chair. "Let's start over over. Hello chick-who's-not-here-to-kick-my-ass, I'm Dr. Alfred Jones, chief resident. How may I help you?"

I exhaled. So, Jones wasn't my doctor's name. "My name is Jules. I'm looking for this doctor who looks remarkably a lot like you but is most definitely not you. A few days ago, he was working in an ambulance at..."

At the word ambulance, Dr. Jones' eyes lit up with understanding. "Oh? Oh?! Right, I know exactly who you're looking for." He took out his phone and pressed a few buttons. "So, why do you want to beat him up? He's actually a pretty nice guy."

Before I could deny his claim, the door behind me suddenly opened up. "Alfred, I swear, if you even try to make me... Jules?!"

I whipped my head around to find Dr. McDreamy standing behind me. My breath caught in my throat. God, he was just so beautiful.

"What are you doing here?" he asked with a laugh that sounded like songbirds. "Is your face okay? I'm really sorry about last time..."

"What did you do, Mattie?" Dr. Jones questioned.

"I accidentally hit her in the face with a door," he explained.

Dr. Jones laughed. "Dude, you have more balls than I thought! No wonder she's going to beat you up!"

Dr. Jones continual insistence of my purpose here brought me back to reality. "I didn't come to beat anyone up. What's going on here? Why were you wearing his nametag?" I confronted the most gorgeous man in the world.

"Miss Bielschmidt, the man you were looking for is the one and only Dr. Matthew Williams," Dr. Jones answered instead. "He's my clone."

"We're not clones, but we are twins," Dr. Williams corrected. "I'm really sorry about this, Jules. Alfred here was too lazy to go on ambulance duty, so I've covered for him a couple of times. That's why I was wearing his nametag."

"I wasn't lazy, I just had better stuff to do," Alfred defended.

Something still didn't add up. "If you're twins, how come you have different last names?"

Matthew sighed. "It's a long story..."

"With a surprisingly simple explanation," Dr. Jones finished for him. "When our step-dad adopted us, I took his last name, and Matthew kept our Mom's. It confuses a lot of people considering how much we look alike."

"Again, Jules, I'm really sorry for the confusion, but I'm glad we could straighten things out. If there's nothing else, I'll just let you two..." Dr. Williams started to open the door again.

"W-wait, Dr. Williams, I wanted to see you!" I blurted out to keep him from going.

Dr. Williams paused and looked genuinely surprised.

"Do you have a minute?" I asked.

Dr. Williams cleared his throat. "Y-yeah, I've got a few seconds."

"Bow-chika-wow-wow," Dr. Jones said under his breath.

"Don't you have patients to check up on?" Dr. Williams snapped.

"Yep." Dr. Jones got up and adjusted his white coat. He walked past his brother to get out the door of his office, leaving us alone for the time being.

"So, um, sorry about my brother. He can be unprofessional, but he's a good do..."

"I wanted to thank you for helping me," I interrupted before I lost the nerve. "And I also wanted to know if you'd want to go...get coffee with me."

Dr. Williams' face went pink. "Oh? Well...um... I'm flattered, but..."

I feared the worst. "You have someone already, don't you?"

"No, no," he insisted. "It's just I don't usually have time to go out..."

"It doesn't have to be right now," I said quickly, my hope renewed. "Whenever you want! Here." I grabbed a pen from Dr. Jones desk. I forgot to grab a piece of paper, so I grabbed Dr. Williams hand instead. It was so soft and perfect, and I scrawled my cellphone number all over it. "Here's my number. Call me anytime, Dr. Williams."

"O-okay." He sounded more confused than anything.

I clicked the pen closed and held his hand for just a bit more. I looked at his eyes just one last time. "Awesome. Call me," I demanded.

With that, I left the office and ran towards the elevator. My heart was beating faster than after I finished a match. If I was already this worked up, I might as well just go to the gym and practice. It didn't matter if I was still sore, I needed to burn off all this extra excitement before I really did explode.


	5. Chapter 5

For the past three days, I didn't let my phone out of my sight. There was never a moment when it wasn't less than three feet away from me. It got to the point where I would hear phantom buzzing and leap to see if Dr. Williams was calling me.

"Jules, would you put that damn phone away? You're up," Westley called to me from the ring.

I rolled my eyes. It's not like this was an official match. It was just practice with a couple of amateurs. You could say the girls had a lot more enthusiasm than I did. Rather than merely bouncing on their feet to keep their heart rate up, they were pouncing all over the ring.

"You scared, Jules? Think I'll drop you like Anya did?" my inadequate opponent tried to egg me on. She was the last one today, thank God.

"Ha!" I laughed once. "Like that'll ever happen."

I left my phone at the very edge of the fighting ring. Not so much that it would fall off, but close enough that I could hear it if something happened. I climbed through the ropes and into the ring.

The punch that came was immediate but easily avoidable. Once her first hit didn't connect, my opponent bounced back half a foot.

I produced a cocky grin. "I'll take you down without a single punch."

Before she could comprehend my change in fighting style, I kicked her in the chest. She stumbled back a few steps again. While her balance was compromised, I crouched down and side swept her. She went down with a loud thump. I sprung into action, pinning her down and restraining her with my legs. She tried to punch me off, but her angle was bad. Her hits felt like nothing.

She was squirming with frustration. So much so that it almost felt like the mat was vibrating.

"Jules, if you don't get off of me, I swear to God..." she said through her teeth.

"Shh! Shh! Shh!" I scrambled to the edge of the ring with my opponent still trapped between my legs. I grabbed my phone before it fell off. It was an unknown number. Hopefully, the unknown number I was waiting for.

"Hello?" I said.

"Hi, um, Jules. This is...uh, I'm Matthew. Dr. Williams?"

"Yeah, hi!" I knew I sounded breathless. I couldn't help it. My heart was beating fast from excitement and physical exertion.

"I'm calling because I was wondering if you wanted to get that coffee with me. I have some free time tomorrow morning, so..."

"I'd love to." I grinned. I twirled the end of my ponytail around my finger.

"Really?! 'Cause, um, it'll be kind of early..." It almost sounded like he wanted me to turn him down.

"That's fine. I'll have to get up early for practice anyway."

I didn't look up to see my brother. He'd probably roll his eyes. I never got up early for anything. I always got to practice at the last minute.

"Okay, then, do you want to meet at that coffee shop across from the park at 7?"

Jeez, that was early! "Yeah, that should be perfect."

"Are you making fun of me?" the girl complained.

"Would you shush? I'm on the phone," I told her.

"It...kind of sounds like you're busy... I called at a bad time..." Matthew said on the phone.

"No, no! I'm actually really glad that you called! I guess I'll have something to look forward to tomorrow," I assured him.

"Alright. Oh, and the name of the coffee shop is Snow Bird."

"Snow Bird. Got it. Okay! I'll see you tomorrow, Matthew." This girl was getting more irritating by the second. She kept on banging her fist on the floor

"Okay," he laughed into the phone. "See you tomorrow, Jules."

I waited for him to hang up first before I put the phone down.

"Jules, that's enough. She gives up," Westley said after my conversation was over.

I let the death grip in my legs relax with an audible groan. The girl splayed out in the mat and breathed heavily. I sat there with my legs relaxed. A grin spread wide across my face. My heavy exhales turned into laughter.

"Have you gone crazy?" my defeated opponent coughed out.

"Crazy in love!" I sprang to my feet and climbed through the ropes to get to my brother.

"I've got a date." I took the strings of his jacket and wriggled them around.

"Good for you," he said in a monotonous tone. "I don't care as long as you come to practice. You're still not ready to take on Anya." His hands nearly encompassed mine as he stopped their motion.

"Oh, boo. Why can't you just be happy for me?" I whined. I threw the strings of his hoodie back against his chest.

"The last thing you need is another distraction," he sighed.

"He's not going to be a distraction," I argued. "I can't believe you'd say that."

He raised his eyebrow. I always wondered how he did that. "Are you trying to say your phone hasn't been a distraction these past three days?"

"That's different. Now I know he's interested," I defended. I grabbed a towel a wiped the sweat off of my face. "Now, if you'll both excuse me, I've got a date to prepare for."

* * *

><p>It'd been longer than I'd like to admit since I've had a date. Not a lot of time for romance when you fight your way to the top. And there weren't really a whole lot of guys I found interesting. Most of the guys I met in the gym were muscle-head idiots. I suppose that was what was so surprising when I fell so hard for Matthew after just a brief meeting in the ambulance.<p>

Despite the length of time since I had been on a date, I think I still knew how to dress. Unfortunately, slipping into a slimming black dress wasn't exactly practical before I went to work. I found my best pair of workout clothes, the kind I'd wear for a photoshoot in some fighting magazine. All of my other ones either smelled like sweat or looked like they had sweat stains. Man, I had to go shopping soon.

I pulled my hair back in my regular ponytail and looked in the mirror. I looked better than I usually did, I had to admit, but I didn't really look like I was going on a date. More like one of those girls who dressed up to go to the gym but didn't want to break a sweat.

I grabbed my wallet and went out to the living room. Westley was up already of course. He sat on the couch of the large apartment we shared and watched ESPN at a low volume. His leg was kicked up on the ottoman as he drank coffee and listened to the standings of the UFC fighters. He glanced my way when he saw me.

"I'm going out," I informed him. "I'll meet you at the gym later."

He squinted at me. I'm pretty sure he already knew I had a date. "Are you wearing makeup?" he asked incredulously.

I could feel myself blushing madly. I knew it had looked too obvious.

"Sh-shut up! I look awesome." No turning back now. I had to keep my confidence in order to woo my beloved.

"Have fun," Westley called out disinterestedly as I walked out the door.


	6. Chapter 6

The coffee shop wasn't far from the corner bus stop. Just a block or two. I jogged past the early morning commuters until I finally saw the sign. "Snow Bird" was above the door along with a pretty white bird. My guess was it was some kind of snow bird. Just a hunch.

The store was a little busy for a non-Starbucks coffee shop. I had to squeeze past a couple of people just to get through the door. And there he was. My very own Dr. McDreamy.

"Jules, you made it!" he said with a relieved smile. He donned his white coat and looked just as perfect as an angel on top of a Christmas tree.

"Yeah," I said brilliantly, halfin a dream-state from his perfection.

"Do you want to get in line?" he asked politely.

I sidestepped so I was right behind the line of people. Dr. Williams stood right next to me. His hand was so close to mine that our knuckles were nearly touching.

Someone bumped into me on the way out. It barely fazed me, but the impact was enough to get our skin to touch. Before I thought about politely giving Matthew some more space, his fingers reached for mine. His hand was warm and gentle. I felt like I could melt.

Matthew seemed to look everywhere but at me. When he did, he couldn't help but smile. "Is this okay?" he asked.

"Pssh, it's more than okay," I embarrassed myself. I cleared my throat once. "So, how have you been?"

"Pretty good," he made conversation. "How about you? What have you been up to?"

"Just training." And a good portion of that was waiting for my phone to ring. "My brother's trying to help me get ready to fight Anya again."

Matthew nodded. "Your brother is your manager, right? I thought you looked alike." He frowned. "Isn't Anya the one who knocked you unconscious and broke that other girl's leg?"

I panicked. "You don't have to be worried about me fighting Anya again. Next time, she'll be the one you take away in an ambulance, not me." The moment that left my mouth, I knew how wrong it sounded. Why was I talking about beating people up to a doctor?

He started smiling again and even laughed. "Well, okay then."

I cracked a smile. "Can we not talk about work for now?" I asked. That was a sure fire way to put my foot in my mouth again.

"Fair enough," Matthew said. "What do you like to do for fun?"

"Work out. Uh, surf the Internet. When our schedules are free, I like to go drinking with my friends. Going out for coffee is way up there, too. What about you?" I asked.

"Well, I like to go hiking and play hockey..." Matthew answered.

"Ah, the other kind of professional fighting," I joked.

"And I also like going out for coffee," he added. He gave me another breathtaking smiles.

And here I was thinking that we didn't have much in common. Before I knew it, we were at the front of the line.

"What would you like?" Matthew asked me.

"I'll have a large black coffee," I told the barista at the cashier.

"Large café au lait for me," Matthew said, credit card in hand.

"Oh wait," I objected. "I was supposed to be the one buying you to coffee."

"It's no trouble," he said sheepishly. "Today's my treat."

We got our drinks at the counter, but there was absolutely nowhere to sit in the café for us.

"Do you want to go sit in the park?" Matthew suggested. "There ought to be some benches out there."

"Yeah, that sounds nice," I agreed. We carried our drinks across the street and into the city park.

The was a bench not far away that the two of us squeezed into. Our hands hadn't parted since the line. I tried to think of ways to progress even further on our first date.

"See, Mom! I told you! It's really her!"

I looked up across the park to see a boy running towards our bench. He seemed like a kid with a little too much energy based on the colorful band aids on his elbows and the weary look in his mother's eyes.

"Dylan, be polite," she sighed.

The little brat started boxing my knees. "You're Jules! I watched you fight on TV. You're awesome!"

Okay, maybe he wasn't so bratty. "You're right. That's me. I am awesome," I laughed. I pretended to punch his head. He scooted back a few inches, fully aware that one of those punches dropped girls twice his size on their butts.

"Can I have your autograph?" he asked.

"Uh, sure." I looked for something to write with and on. Matthew solved one mystery by pulling a pen out of his pocket. The boy's mother solved the other by pulling a crinkled receipt out of her purse. Matthew held my coffee as I scrawled my name sloppily on the wrinkled paper.

"Are you a UFC fighter, too?" Dylan asked Matthew with bright eyes.

"No, I'm just..." Matthew looked embarassed.

"He's just the brilliant doctor who got me into tip top shape for my revenge match!" I said dramatically. "It's going to be awesome. You definitely won't want to miss it."

"Cool!" he said when I handed him the completed autograph.

"What do you say, Dylan?" his mother prompted with a small smile.

"Thank you!" Dylan chimed. He followed after his mother over to the bus stop.

"Wow, you're quite the celebrity," Matthew commented as he gave me back my coffee.

"Not really. This hardly ever happens outside of the fighting arena." I couldn't help but get a little self-inflated. "I'm surprised he didn't ask for your autograph, too."

"No, no," he dismissed.

"No, really! You do a lot more extraordinary things than I do," I insisted. "You just need a little more recognition."

"I don't really need recognition. Helping people get better is enough," he said simply and beautifully.

He really was the most attractive man I've ever met. I finally caught my inspiration. "Look over there!" I said and pointed to the other side of him.

He turned his head to look. I sat up straighter and leaned in closer and closer until my breath caught in my throat.

"I didn't..." As Matthew's face turned back around. I stopped his motion with my lips. A simple kiss smack dab on his cleanly shaved cheek.

I think I surprised him a bit. He stopped moving for a little while. I pulled back with a cheeky little smile. Today was a great day. Not only did I get to hold Dr. McDreamy's hand, I stole a kiss from his perfect face...

He turned his head the rest of the way and closed the distance I created between us. Before I had time to prepare my heart, his lips found mine. They were even softer and warmer than his hands, partly due to the coffee he had been drinking. The meeting between our lips was ever so sweet and ever so short, lasting no more than a couple of blinks.

His pucker turned into a gentle grin as he pulled back. "Would you like to get coffee again sometime?"

"Uh huh." My voice was barely recognizable from a breath.

He turned his wrist to look at his watch, careful not to spill coffee on himself. "I've got to get to work soon, but I'll call you later."

"Uh huh," I repeated. My heart was so maxed out, it could barely register when Matthew leaned over to kiss my cheek.

"Okay. Bye Jules." He got up from the bench and let go of my hand. As he walked away, he looked back a couple of times and smiled.

I was dumbstruck, still sitting on the bench like an idiot. By the time I realized that I wanted to run after him and kiss him again, he was already gone.

I walked by myself to the gym, still in a daze. I sipped the rest of my coffee sparingly, knowing that the cooler and closer the coffee got to lukewarm, the longer the moment had passed. Westley was already waiting for me.

"There you are, Jules. I've got your training schedule for today." He narrowed his eyes when he saw the state I was in. "What happened to you?"

The silliest smile emerged from my blissful stupor. "He kissed me," I admitted out loud. "He kissed me," I giggled again.

"Good for you. Now, pull yourself together. We've got work to do." He placed my gloves in my hands and pushed me into the ring.


	7. Chapter 7

I hadn't been this excited about a shopping trip in a long time. I had gotten some new work out clothes, true, but that wasn't what I was excited about. I ran my hands down the black slimming dress. I hadn't worn a dress in who knows how long. The fabric even made it look like I had soft curves instead of pure muscle. The neckline swooped wide across my shoulders, but still fed to the long sleeves. I looked like a pretty classy lady. Now, all I had to do was wait to ask Mattie out to dinner.

We had been on several coffee dates now. It was only an amount of time before he could find an evening that he was free. As much as I loved coffee with him, something more interesting was bound to happen.

I could see myself smile in the mirror when my cell phone rang. Caller ID said it was Mattie. He was probably just calling to remind me about our date tomorrow.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hey, uh, Jules." His voice sounded... off.

"What's going on? Are you feeling okay?" I asked suspiciously.

"I'm not feeling so hot." He threw in a cough for good measure. "I'm going to have to cancel y-our date tomorrow." I could hear him shushing someone in the background.

The longer he talked the easier to put two and two together. "Dr. Jones, would you put Mattie on the phone?"

"Shit," he said under his breath. "I can't do that, Jules."

"What did you do?" I asked in irritation. I didn't like my plans being cancelled. Especially by someone else.

"Look, Matt's kind of had a rough day. I thought I'd take him to a bar, and now he's really drunk. I didn't know he had a date until a moment ago, but it's pretty apparent he's going to be very hungover tomorrow morning."

I couldn't believe this. "What happened? Let me talk to him."

"Alfie, is that her? Is she coming over?" A familiar voice said in the background on Alfred's side of the line.

"He's asking for me," I said.

Oh, God damn it," Alfred said.

"What is it now?" I asked, yet somehow dreaded the answer.

"I'm on call tonight. The hospital just ordered me in. Shit..."

"Are you going to get in trouble?" I asked.

"Trust me. I'm not the one that's been drinking, but someone needs to take care of him. Can you take him home?"

"Excuse me?" I laughed. "I don't exactly know where..."

"Look, the bar is on Maple street and 3rd. I've really got to go. There's an emergency. Just get here quick before Matt embarrasses himself even more."

He hung up. What was I supposed to do? I mean, it was Mattie. I had to help him.

"Where are you going?" my gaurd dog of a brother asked me. I was nearly to the door.

"I've got to go out for a bit. Little errand to run," I said.

I knew what my brother was thinking. This was a very important time. The championship was coming up. He had me on diets and supplements and sleep schedules and training schedules. He was even more of a micromanager than usual.

"Don't stay out too late," he warned.

Once I was out of there, I was running. Westley would be proud. God damn it.

It didn't take as long as I thought to get down to Maple street. Lucky for me, the first bar I found was the right one. He was there at the bar. Between two women. They were probably swarming around him because he still had his scrubs on and the alure of a single doctor was irresistible. If my blood wasn't racing from running, it sure was now. But who was I to be scared away be a little competition.

"Matthew!" I said loudly to get his attention.

His face lit up when he saw me. Very slowly. His brother was right. This man was drunk.

"Jules!" he happily slurred. "You're here! I'm so glad!"

I wormed my way over to him. This was a whole different style of fighting. This was unfortunately done by tender touches rather than a good punch to both of their faces.

"Are you feeling okay?" I asked gently, running my hand over Mattie's shoulder. "I heard you asking for me."

He placed his hand over mine. I took the opportunity to give him a territorial kiss. He was sloppy and smelled like booze, but it was enough to drive those girls away with a scoff and a "whatever."

"Alfie said he called you to reschedule our date. I didn't know he meant right now..." He leaned closer. "I'm not exactly ready. I'm a teensy bit drunk."

"That's okay," I reassured him. "I'm just here to take you home."

He started giggling. "Your place or mine?"

I blushed for both of us. "Mattie, we aren't exactly..."

"What do you want to drink?" Mattie practically shouted. "Me and the bartender are friends."

"I really don't want anything. I really think we should just leave," I insisted. Damn, how many drinks had he had? Why did Alfred let it go this far?

"I don't want to go home yet," he said sadly. " Can't I just stay here? With you?"

I felt bad for him. Alfred said he had a bad day. And I really did want to be there for him. I did want our relationship to develop beyond superficial cups of coffee. I sat on the barstool next to him. "Can we just both have some water?" I asked the bartender

Mattie didn't say anything for a while. He didn't even touch his water. Just how bad was his day?

"Mattie, you should drink something," I said with concern. "Flush out your system."

"Have you ever accidentally killed someone in the ring?" he asked out of the blue.

I was shocked by his dark implications. Mattie didn't usually talk like this. "No," I said carefully. "The matches have rules to prevent accidents like that. We wear padding and gloves. Certain fighting moves are even banned to keep a fight from getting lethal, though accidents do sometimes happen."

He was quiet for a moment. "I've killed lots of people."

My heart stopped. "I'm sure that's not true."

He nodded. "It is. I killed two people today."

"Mattie, I'm sure you didn't kill them..." I said calmly, getting over the initial shock. He was a doctor. Death was bound to happen in a hospital.

"They were under my care, and they died. It's the same thing," he insisted loudly.

"Shh, shh." I placed my hand on his shoulder again. "It's not the same thing. I'm sure you did all you could."

"One was eighty-one." He nodded. "Died in her sleep. Her heart failed. The other one..." His voice caught in his throat. "The other one was seven. Little boy with cancer. He was in so much pain..."

My heart broke for his. He started to cry. "I hate clinical work! I hate it! You spend so much time with a patient and then they're just gone. Gone forever. Alfred's so much better at it than me."

He swirled around the water in his glass. "That's part of the reason I like working in an ambulance so much. You see patients for a couple of minutes, than you push them off to someone else."

I felt helpless. I had no idea how I was supposed to relate. "Mattie, you...have so much love in your heart." He looked desperately at me. "You really care for people. I could tell. When I woke up and you were there in that ambulance, I never felt more cared for in my life. Your patients know that, too. They're so lucky to have you looking after them."

I stood up. "It's hard. I understand. It's hard. To try your at something only to feel like you're not good. But you're not alone. I want to be part of this. Your good days and bad days. I want to hurt when you hurt and celebrate when you celebrate. I want to be there to remind you that you are so much more than the bad things in life. You are loved regardless."

I held his head close to my chest. His arms eventually circled around my waist as he cried. I smoothed my hand over his wavy hair.

"Are you doing okay?" I asked once he had calmed down a bit more.

"I don't feel very good..." he slurred.

"Alright. Let's get you home." I adjusted my grip on him to carry his weight better.

"Need help getting him out?" the bartender offered. He sounded grateful to finally get him out of the establishment.

"Thanks, but I've got this. I can carry him back if I need to," I said.

* * *

><p>Through a bit of rough communication, I finally managed to get Mattie to his apartment. He was heavy and lethargic. He only threw up once on the way there into a trash barrel. He could walk somewhat, but he was far to clumsy to make it back all the way on his own. I reached my hand into his pocket and found his keys.<p>

"It's the silver one," he breath, his exhale hot and heavy with alcohol. "In the middle."

I opened the door. I didn't have time to sightsee. I looked around only a moment to figure out where the bedroom was. I got him on his bed and took a minute to breathe. I went back to the kitchen, grabbed a glass, and filled it up with water. I took just a sip and brought it back for Mattie.

"Here. Drink this," I ordered.

He drank this time. Chugged really. "This is really weak," he commented with a disgusted face.

"I brought a trash can over. Try your best to aim for that if you're gonna throw up and sleep on your side..." I instructed. I had had a few too many hangovers back in my day.

"Come closer," he whispered wiggling his fingers toward me.

I obliged by sitting on the side. He reached for my face.

"You look so beautiful," he said reverently. "And muscley."

"Thank you," I said. I pulled the glasses from his face and placed them on his nightstand. "You should try that line again when you aren't so drunk."

"I want to see more..." he mumbled.

"Wha-"

He sat up enough to start kissing my neck. He used one hand to move up my thigh and the other one to start pulling down the neckline of my dress.

"Mattie..." I breathed.

That seemed to only encourage him. He pressed harder into my thigh, bunching up the fabric. His lips inched towards my breast.

My head was starting to fog up. I felt warm. It was like he was passing his drunkeness to me. "Mattie, you need to stop. You're drunk..."

"But you feel so good," he whined. His hand shot up under my skirt. The shock sprang me into action.

"Mattie!" I shouted. I pushed the sleeves on one of my arms back up and slapped him hard across his face. He flopped back onto the bed.

I frantically pulled at the edges of my dress. "I asked you to stop." My voice was shaky. I hit him. God, I didn't mean to hurt him. It was instinctual.

He didn't respond at first. I thought maybe I had knocked him out.

"Ow," he eventually groaned into his pillow. "Sorry."

I sighed. He was drunk. He probably wasn't going to remember any of this. I turned away.

"Please don't leave me, Jules," he muttered pathetically.

"Do you want to sleep in your scrubs?" I asked him as I worked on taking off his shoes.

"No," he said as he shook his head.

I unclipped his name badge from his chest and put it next to his glasses. I pulled the top layer off from his chest, leaving him in his undershirt. "Want me to do your pants, too?"

He nodded at that. I carefully untied the drawstring and pantsed him, throwing his scrubs on the floor. He laid on top of his covers nearly naked.

I went into his bathroom to refill his water and grabbed a bottle of painkillers. He was going to have a nasty headache in the morning.

"Jules," he exhaled when I came back.

I set the water and medicine on his nightstand, which was becoming rather full. "Yeah," I answered.

"Thank you, and I'm sorry," he said groggily.

I cracked a smile. "It's okay. You weren't thinking straight. I'm sorry for slapping you."

"Stay with me until I fall asleep?" he asked.

"Mattie, it's late..." I tried to protest, but apparently he only needed me to stay for two more seconds. He was zonked out before I even finished my sentence.

* * *

><p>I tried to come back home quietly, but it was all in vain. Westley was waiting up for me.<p>

"It's late," he scolded. "Where were you?"

"Eh, I was..." I tried to think of a good explanation.

"What happened to you? Did you go out drinking?" Apparently my disheveled look was for some cause of alarm.

"Look, my friend was really drunk, and I needed to help them home. It took longer than I thought," I told the truth.

"Do you know how worried I was? You could have gotten in an accident," he continued to berate.

"West, calm down. I'm an adult. You're my manager, not my babysitter. So what if I went out?"

"You do realize the championship tournament is two weeks away. You have a good chance of winning, but you're not focussed..."

"Are you kidding me?" I shouted. "Do you know how many years I've worked for this? I'm the one fighting out there. I'm the one taking all the punches. You can just sit there and criticize me all you like, but I'm doing my damn best. I deserve one night, just one night of you not breathing down my neck."

He didn't say anything. He cleared his throat. "That's true. You're the one that's fighting, not me. I would if I could. You know that. If I seem overbearing, it's because I'm really proud of you, sis. I really want you to win..."

My heart sank. "West, shit, I didn't mean it like that."

"No, it's fine," he said gruffly. "I'll leave you alone. I wanted to start you on the boot camp tomorrow, but we can do something else. I'll let you have a break instead. That could be good for you, too." He got up from the couch and hobbled over to his room. His knee must be hurting again.

"West, wait." I stopped him. "I'm proud, too. Everyone knows that you're the best manager out there. Hell, I wouldn't have gotten anywhere without you. I don't need a break. It's just late. I'm tired. Tomorrow, I want to start boot camp. I want you to train me. My date got cancelled, so I'm all yours."

He frowned. "That's too bad. You know I keep your phone during boot camp. Won't you want to tell your boyfriend?"

I sighed. "He wouldn't remember even if I told him. I'll send him a text, and that's going to have to do it."

I walked over to my brother and mussed up his hair. "I appreciate you waiting up for me."

"Go to bed," he ordered, a little embarassed. "You can sleep in. I'm going to make you work hard these next two weeks."

I gave him a smile. "I expect nothing less."

* * *

><p>I won't be able to talk to you for a while. I hope you understand. I need to work out and really know who I'm up against. That means whatever we have is going to have to be on hold. Sorry. I'd like to see you, but I can't for a while. I hope you feel better.<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

"Haaaahhh!" I yelled as I slammed my fists against the punching bag.

"30 more seconds." Westley was holding his bag, but he was struggling to keep his grip. I saw his feet inch closer to me to regain traction.

I pounded the bag relentlessly. I pictured Anya's face on the bright red bag. I imagined every way that I could throw off her center of gravity. The more I thought of her the angrier I got. The intensity of my workout mounted as my anger built.

"Good. Just a little more..."

I threw my all into the last few punches. Putting the last of my energy into each and every movement. It was a wonder I was still on my feet.

"Time!" Westley yelled and stepped back from the bag.

"Aargh!" I pushed the bag as hard as I could. It sung violently through the air.

"New record by a long shot," Westley said with a grin. "Must say, I'm really liking your enthusiasm today. You've gotten a lot better."

I fought the feeling of wanting to throw up my lungs. "How much longer do you think I have?" I asked. I stretched my arm across my chest and tried to catch my breath.

"We'll take a break for an hour, get you a protein shake, then work on your legs," Westley said as he helped stretch me out.

"That's not what I meant." I shook my head. "The youngest girl in this tournament is seventeen. The average age is 23. Even Anya is two years younger than me. How much longer can I keep fighting?"

"Five, maybe seven years if we're lucky and you keep working like this. Ten if you want to completely ruin your joints making a very painful old age," he said without missing a beat.

I figured as much. "And how much longer do I actually have a chance to win the championship tournament?"

Westley was strangely silent. "Well, it's all pretty subjective..."

"West..."

"You want me to be honest? This could be your last year to have this good of a chance at winning," he admitted.

I breathed out. I had a feeling that was the case. I was pushing with everything I had, bringing myself to the point of exhaustion. I didn't think I could do this much longer, let alone my whole life. It was too much stress for one body to have.

"But to be fair, I've thought that every year since we've gone pro."

I huffed out a laugh. "Oh, thanks, bro."

"You always come back and surprise me. Your dedication and determination always exceed my expectations. I can hardly tell what you're going to do next. If I were to make a prediction, I think your best bet on actually winning would be next year and the year after that. Plus, this year of course."

I nodded. "I've been thinking...about what I'm going to do after I win," I said. "I haven't really thought about it before. Winning this tournament has really been the only goal I've had in mind. I might try to defend my title, but I know I'm going to have to stop fighting eventually. And then what about you? What's going to happen to you when I stop beating up people for a living?"

Westley smirked. "I wouldn't worry about me too much. I've got plans."

"Of course you do. Care to enlighten me?" I probed.

"Once you win, I'll probably start coaching other girls. I'll take the prize money and buy the gym, fix it up a bit. Then, I'll..." Westley stopped short.

"You'll what?"

Westley's face started to blush. "Well, I guess I'll get married."

I was nearly floored. "Married? To who? You're not dating anyone!"

"I have a girlfriend," he stammered. "I mean, we haven't seen each other a lot since high school, and I've been busy training you..."

"Felicia! I thought you broke up with her ages ago!" I exclaimed.

"No..." He defended himself. His face was bright red. "I told her... We're just on a little break. She said she'd wait for me."

I grinned at my brother's sheepishness. "And I'm sure she has. I probably should win this tournament, though. Wouldn't want her to wait much longer."

Westley cleared his throat and regained his composition. "No."

"Speaking of love interests, have I gotten any calls or texts? Just out of curiosity," I asked. It had been quite a few days since my evening out with Mattie. Hopefully, he had sobered up since then.

Westley shook his head. "I haven't looked at your phone. I have it locked in a locker. You can have it back in two days."

Two days. Just two days until the tournament. I finished up my cool down and clapped my padded hands together. "Alright. Protein shake. I want chocolate, but not the really powdery one. You know how I like them."

"Answer this question and I'll throw in a spoonful of peanut butter. What is Anya's biggest weakness?" West asked.

"Easy," I dismissed. "She underestimates me."

* * *

><p>The tournament arrived quick and painlessly. The training had really paid off. I got through the first few fights effortlessly. The semifinal was a bit harder, but I got though that without too much harm done. I made it to the finals, which was the closest I had ever gotten. The judges just let us know that Anya had made it through to the finals just as easily.<p>

I had my earbuds in, but I wasn't listening to any music. I scrolled throught my library, but nothing seemed right. I couldn't tell if I was nervous or anxious or just so relaxed I felt no need to be pumped.

Westley had apparently finished pacing in the hallway. He looked way more nervous than me.

"Okay, I brought you a water..." he said as he handed it to me.

"Mmm, thanks," I said as I brought the bottle to my lips. I took my headphones out so he could tell I was listening to him.

"And I also got your phone out of storage, so..."

I nearly spit out my water. My hand eagerly waited before Westley put my cell phone in the palm of my gloved hand.

I quickly turned it on and found I had a bunch of messages, both text and voicemail. I couldn't help but smile.

The newest ones were the typical good luck messages from my friends, and much to my delight, Mattie and messaged me too. They were surprisingly short and even more surprisingly distressed. "Please, don't ignore me," "Please, pick up the phone," and "Have you listened to your voice mail?"

I was confused to say the least. Something must have happened while I was training. I called my voicemail and listened carefully to the messages.

"Hey, Jules! It's me. I...Uh...I'm really sorry I missed our date. I hope you're not too mad. I kind of had a rough day yesterday. I went out drinking with my brother, and I *ahem* don't remember much after that. Woke up with a bad headache. So...call me back! I'd really like to reschedule. It doesn't have to be coffee. Let me know, and I'd love to make it up to you. Talk to you soon, bye."

I smiled to myself. He was so sweet.

"Jules, I am so, so sorry! I just read your text message, and I should have done that first. It was a bit ambiguous, and I wanted to make sure we're still okay. Alfie just told me that you were the one who took me home. I...I'm not sure what I said or did, but Jules, I didn't mean it! I was drunk. I was stupid. I never meant to... I'm really sorry. I don't drink very often. Just, please! Please, give me another chance! And please call me back!"

Westley must have seen the look on my face. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"I...I'm not sure," I said. "I think...I think Mattie thinks I broke up with him."

"Sorry to bother you. It's been a couple of days, and I thought... I understand why you're angry. I just...I just don't want to break up with you. You...you're really special to me, and I miss you. I miss you a lot. I was really lucky the day they put you in my ambulance. I can't forget the way you reacted when you woke up. I know you were probably confused, but the way you looked at me...I wanted you to look at me that way all the time. No one has ever made me feel the way you do, Jules, and I really want to show you how important you are to me. If you can somehow forgive me, please call me back."

I was crying, that's how happy I was. He was so sweet. I loved him. I loved him so much. There was only one more message left on my phone.

"It *ahem* has come to my attention that the MMA championship is coming up and you've probably been training your ass off. I wanted to apologize for the way I acted at our last meeting and after. I've left a lot of messages on your phone. By the way, if for some reason your phone plays this one first, you can delete all the others. I wanted to tell you that you're wonderful, and I'll be routing for you. Break a leg! Hopefully someone else's. I don't know if that's appropriate considering I'm a doctor... I'd like to see you soon, so we can talk. I'll be waiting! Bye."

I was laughing now.

"Are you okay?" Westley asked, concern growing on his face.

"I am perfect," I laughed.

"You're on in five, Jules." One of the tournament managers stuck his face in the door.

I let out a deep breath and stuck my ponytail into a tight bun. I stood up and bounced lightly on my toes. The ceramic tiles felt good on my feet.

"Relax, West. I'm going to win," I reassured my brother. "Who's awesome?"

"You're awesome," he replied.

"Damn right," I said. I kissed my fists just as they started to open the doors to the arena. The cheers were nearly deafening.

"This one's for you, baby bro!" I shouted as I punched my fists towards my brother.

"Kick some ass!" Westley screamed back. I turned my back to him as I started for the ring.


	9. Chapter 9

I kept on my toes. My heart was beating fast, pumping adrenaline all throughout my body. I could feel the heat radiating through my chest and searing my mind.

Instead of being angry, I was oddly calm, despite the fact Anya stood right across from me in the ring. The ref was out, and the bell had dinged, but neither of us really moved.

Anya smirked so I could see her red mouthguard. She advanced towards me with a short step and a jab with her right arm.

Man, she really was slow, but I knew that I couldn't take very many of her hits. I had dodged the first one, but I caught the other one in my ribs.

I had tensed up in time so that it did little more than knock the wind out of me. She wasn't serious yet. She was waiting.

I had to get moving. I narrowly sidestepped her next strike. As a last minute movement, one of my fists snapped into her stomach.

From the corner of my eye, I saw her smile. But behind that smile, I saw her wince. I knew what that wince meant. Opportunity.

I sent several more sharp jabs to her gut. I didn't care if it was a ruse. She made a mistake by giving me any room to attack. I could feel her try to punch me. Try. Her padded fists were nothing more than annoying bee stings. She was running out of air. She let me get too close.

Anya moved her hands from protecting her face to push me away. A split second was all it took. I threw my upper body weight as far down as I could. Anything to add more power to my kick.

I felt a sense of elation as I felt my shin connect with her face. I whipped back up to follow through, but there was no need. She staggered on her feet. She couldn't even keep her fists up. She fell backward, letting her head hang freely.

The audience roared as the refs and coaches rushed to the ring. She had blacked out for only a little more than a couple of seconds, but that was all it took.

It didn't register for me at first. I had won the fight, yes, but it was more than that. I had beat Anya. This was a championship match. I was the female MMA champion.

I lifted my gloves in the air, relishing my victory, soaking in the cheers of my fans. The ref grabbed my wrist, raising my hand higher, declaring me the winner. They got out the belt and put it in my arms. All I could see was its shine. My eyes were tearing up from the awesome cool feeling of relief.

"You did it!" I heard through the tears. My brother had made his way into the ring and hugged me tight. "You finally did it!"

I shook my head. "We did it, bro. We both did it."

"Thank you," he sobbed into my shoulder. "Thank you so much. I love you, Jules."

I wiped at my face and then patted his head with my gloved hand. "Save the tears until after you propose. That's something you should be much happier about."

He lifted his head then, eyes wide. His mouth dropped open as if he just realized that he had the means to propose to his girlfriend now.

It brought a fresh smile to my face. "Go call her. Let her know I want a sister ASAP."

* * *

><p>As soon as I left the locker room I was met by a sea of reporters. I had my belt securely fashioned around my hips and a grin permanently plastered to my face. Westley had left long ago to meet up with his girlfriend.<p>

"Jules! Jules! Some are calling this a major upset. Any comments?"

"How does it feel to have finally beaten your rival?"

"What are your plans now that you're the champion?"

I decided to answer them all in one shot. "Really, the feeling is awesome. I don't think there's anything like knowing you're the best in the world. Anya just couldn't cut it this time. As for my plans, I'm going to try to defend my title for as long as I can."

"Is there any message you would like to give to your fans?" One reporter asked.

"Oh right. Gotta give a big shoutout to all my fans for sticking with me and cheering me on. Of coarse, my brother, too. It takes a really awesome person to manage me. Oh, and I'd like to thank my sponsors, all the medical personal who patched me up after fights..."

I don't know why I looked over there. All of the ambulances should have been gone by now. But I was wrong. There was one more left up there. I felt my heart beat faster than it ever did at the match.

"Jules! Jules!" They insisted as I started to move.

"That'll be all," I said quickly and broke out in a run. That hill felt like nothing. I couldn't shake the hope that if I just ran fast enough, I might be able to see him.

There were two people on the hill. Only one turned my way as I reached the summit. He handed off a clipboard to the other with wide eyes behind his glasses. It was him. It was definitely him.

"Jules!" he greeted me hopefully.

I ran into him, locking my arms around his body. A bit too roughly, I smashed my lips against Mattie's.

I caught him a little off guard, of coarse, but his lips softened and moved to accept mine. His hands grabbed my exposed waist and pulled me closer.

I broke the kiss with a gigantic inhale. "God, I missed you!"

Mattie still seemed flabbergasted. "I...I... I guess this means you still like me. Thank God. Congratulations on your match."

"Of coarse I still like you. You are absolutely the cutest, sweetest, most caring person in the world," I gushed.

He kissed me in a way that wasn't entirely cute, sending my heart into a frenzy.

"You have no idea how much I missed you. I think about you every moment that you're gone. I'm crazy about you. And I feel like an idiot for not letting you know sooner. And for the way I must have acted when I got drunk..."

"Mattie, I love you," I blurted out. I couldn't help it. I was exhilarated.

He was speechless. But he looked mostly happy, so I took that as a good sign.

"Hey, what are you doing later?" I asked, still talking about a mile a minute.

"We-I've got to take the ambulance back, but... Wait, didn't you say that you love me?"

I nodded. "I want to celebrate. Let's go get a drink!"

"I don't think that's a good idea," he said cautiously. "Not the loving me part!" he quickly ammended. "That sounds great, if slightly surprising..."

"You don't have to drink if you don't want to," I compromised. "Think of it as payback. Buy me a drink, and if you're lucky, we could still go back to your place..."

The ambulance turned on its siren for an unexpected second. "Mattie, hurry up! Quit stalling. We're already running late!" the driver yelled through the window.

"Um..." Mattie turned his face back towards me. "I've got to go..."

I felt my heart drop slightly. Well, it's not like it was the end of the world. I mean, maybe it was still too early in our relationship for that.

"So, I guess I'll meet you at the bar. The one from before, I mean. If you still want to back to my place...well..." He laughed nervously and produced the cutest smirk. "If that's how you want to celebrate being the MMA champion, there's no way I'm gonna pass on that opportunity."

An embarrassing squeal escaped from my grin. Matthew grabbed my hips by my belt and pulled me into another kiss.

He ran back to the ambulance and hopped in the back. "See you soon," he called out breathlessly.

At that moment, I knew this feeling of euphoria was not from being the best in the world. This elation was knowing I _have_ the best in the world and the possibility that I would still be with him tomorrow. Damn, what a knockout.


End file.
